


First Degree

by annabeth



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bad boy beka, Barebacking, Bloody Violence, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Felching, M/M, Minor Character Death, Prison AU, Rimming, Smut, biting/marking/bruising, misuse of figure skates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2019-01-09 00:44:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12265449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annabeth/pseuds/annabeth
Summary: "I'll cut your face off!" Yuri yells, lunging for the unfortunate new inmate who had the audacity to evenglanceat Yuri.





	First Degree

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shadesofhades](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadesofhades/gifts).



> I have spawned something that is already out of hand in my mind and [ShadesofHades](http://archiveofourown.org/users/shadesofhades)'s mind. This is probably just the beginning of a prison AU universe that we both have plans to write more fics for.
> 
> Thank you to ShadesofHades for the beta!

"I'll cut your face off!" Yuri yells, lunging for the unfortunate new inmate who had the audacity to even _glance_ at Yuri. Otabek grabs his arms and pulls him back.

"Not today, Yura," he soothes in his soft, deep, deceptively gentle voice. "You'll end up in solitary again. And I want you badly, tonight. I'm jonesing bad."

"You look at me again, motherfucker, and I'll make sure you don't have any eyes to do it again," Yuri threatens. He struggles against Otabek for a minute and then allows Otabek to lead him away. "I'm gonna kill them. I'll kill them all."

Otabek is silent as they walk away. Of the two of them, everyone always assumes that he's the one who is the most dangerous, from his bulkier build to his undercut to the tattoos. Yuri's a pixie, petite, blond, and fairy-like, and often engenders lust in other inmates. Otabek could protect him from it—but he enjoys watching Yuri lose his shit and hurt people too much. He almost always lets Yuri do what he wants, but sometimes the little wildcat needs to be reined in, and right now, Otabek wants to fuck his tight little pink hole so bad.

Mila hasn't brought him drugs in a few days, and he wasn't kidding when he said he was jonesing. He's twitchy from withdrawal, his skin feeling stretched, the sweating and chills starting to become unbearable, but fucking Yuri will help beat back the urges because he's got some X and that, plus Yuri's fragile looking beauty, ought to be enough to keep the cravings at bay a little longer.

At least, he hopes so, because he doesn't want to kill anyone else, and sometimes, when he hasn't had a high for days, he feels awfully murderous. If that's how Yuri feels all the time, he kind of pities him, not that he'd ever say so. Yuri is hair-trigger sensitive enough as it is.

"You better fuck me so hard, Beka," Yuri says clinging to his side. He mouths at Otabek's pec through the prison jumpsuit, and Otabek shivers. His Yura is definitely a tiger in a kitten disguise, and he loves it _so much_.

"Don't worry," Otabek assures him, "you'll feel it."

"Altin!" calls Viktor Nikiforov, one of the main guards. He's a vicious bastard who hides it all behind a smile and fancy act. "Visitor. You have ten minutes, so get your ass in gear."

"Wait for me," Otabek whispers into Yuri's ear, leaving him with his words and a decisive lick of the shell of his ear. He's way too happy to see Mila when he gets to the visiting room.

"I got your teddy bear," Mila says as soon as he sits down. She holds out a bear with an angry expression, thick eyebrows. The guards have asked, in places where they can be overheard, what's up with that Altin kid and teddies—he's eighteen, after all—but what they don't know is that the delicious high he craves is hidden within the cotton, a white powder that will make the days slide by a little easier, just like fucking his Yura does.

"You're a peach," Otabek says. He offers her a rare smile, which Mila takes and pockets. He can see it in the way her face softens, that she's savoring it, saving it. Mila brings him heroin because she's been in love with him forever, and because he looks after Yuri. She's way too attached to the kitten, but Otabek understands; he is too, after all.

"I'll get you another one as soon as I can," Mila says. Otabek nods and gets up. Today's guard, Josef Karpisek, leads him away.

It's maybe luck that Yuri is his cellmate—especially since gay partners are often separated—but he's grateful for it, as he finds Yuri waiting there, lying spread open on Otabek's bed, his eyes half-lidded and green as absinthe. He's not shy, and he's completely nude, and Otabek's cock immediately begins to stir.

"Mila stopped by," Otabek says, and tosses the precious teddy to Yuri, who catches it and brings it to his face, inhaling.

"You wanna get high now, or after you fuck me?" Yuri asks, dropping the teddy to the bed and reaching beneath the thin mattress for the shiv he's fashioned out of a toothbrush. "You know you take forever to come if you do it before, though."

"You never seem to complain," Otabek returns archly, and Yura, his beautiful blond fairy, lethal just like the fae in ancient stories, goes pink across the cheeks. Otabek loves making him blush; the fact that Yura is so violent, so harsh, makes those moments of vulnerability all the more tempting. The hint of fragility where there isn't any. Otabek goes all the way hard, just from that blush.

"Because you do me so good," Yuri murmurs, and slices open the teddy bear's belly. The little baggie that falls out is like manna from heaven to Otabek, who can't wait to get his damn nose in it.

"Gotta fuck you after, kitten," he gasps, feeling the chills spread over him despite the arousal frothing in his veins. His hand shakes, and Yuri takes the baggie from him, opens it, prepares everything because he can see Otabek's weakness—the only one who ever does.

Otabek does a line in each nostril and pauses for breath, just sitting, feeling the high spread through him. It might be a little bit before his hard on comes back, but the drug filling his brain and stimulating his pleasure receptors almost makes him not care about that. Almost—except his Yura is watching with glittering green eyes, eyes that are filled with an intensity that might burn Otabek alive.

"Soon," he says. Then he does another line in each nostril, forcing himself to stop and conserve the rest. His body wants more, but Otabek can't go through it too fast.

Time passes in a glorious haze after that, with Yuri kneeling between Otabek's spread knees, stroking him lightly through the jumpsuit. Otabek is hardening, but it's still gonna be a little bit. He lets his eyes fall closed and leans back against the wall, trusting Yuri to put the heroin away and make sure everything looks kosher.

"Tell me again," Otabek whispers. "How you came to me." This is his favorite story, the one that makes him the hardest for Yuri, and it's always better if Yuri tells it to him while he's high. Even better, when he's tripping balls, the story plays like a movie before his eyelids.

_Yuri lands the quad sal easily, and his coach claps his hands._

_"That's enough for today, Yurochka. Go shower up."_

_Yuri hates the showers. The other guys always stare, and it makes him sick. Sometimes they form little circles with each other and snigger, and Yuri understands that he's the butt of the joke._

_Still, it's the worst today, when Leo de la Iglesia finally decides to let him in on the joke, just as he's unlacing his skates._

_"Hey,_ Ice Tiger _," Leo says sarcastically. "Anyone ever tell you how tiny and cute you are? You sure you're fifteen? That cock is awfully small and cute. Like a little kid's."_

_"You like cock-lookin', you fucking queer?" Yuri snarls, and before anyone can really blink, there's red splashing down over Leo's chest from the wound in his neck, soaking into the white of his towel, and Yuri is standing, chest heaving, his skate held in his hand and blood dripping off the blade._

_He pled not guilty, but it was a formality because everyone knew he was guilty. Not only all of the other skaters who witnessed the murder, but his coach, too, when he came running at the screams. He was tried and charged as an adult because of the brutality of the crime._

_Yuri had never felt so free as he did after that, even once he was incarcerated._

_Still, Yuri's never minded prison much, because that's where he met Otabek._

Otabek opens his eyes and cards a hand through Yuri's longish blond hair. He's still tripping, but between the story and the gentle but determined movements of Yuri's hand, he's hard as diamonds and feels ready.

"I love you," Otabek whispers, and Yuri smiles, kittenish indeed.

"I know," he says, saucy, and Otabek pounces on him, pinning him to the floor. The lotion Otabek has procured for this purpose is already nearby, Yuri having had plenty of time to prepare. In fact, his little hole is already greased and open, and Otabek quickly unbuttons his jumpsuit and frees his cock.

It slips inside easily and they both gasp, Yuri's hand going up to Otabek's face, and Otabek cups Yuri between the legs and holds him, not moving his hand, just laying it there.

"Go," Yura says, and arches his back. The beautiful curve of his body makes Otabek's vision blur; he's like a piece of art, only living, breathing—and _ow_ , painful, as he lowers his hand to Otabek's shoulder and digs his sharp fingernails in. This isn't heat of the moment scoring of the flesh; no, this is deliberate, clawing to leave marks that will linger.

For every soft, delicate twist of his body or turn of his hips, Yura is a violent tiger kitten, who bruises and makes Otabek bleed and bucks against him like it's rape he's getting—or rape he wants—even though they both know—everyone knows—that Yura belongs to him, that he loves every second of every time they fuck. Even as he beats his fists against Otabek's chest like he's trying to force him off.

Otabek moves his hand, bringing them both up to cradle Yura's face, even as he sets up a pattern of thrusts, moving into him and out, in time with their breathing: the more ragged it gets, the faster Otabek pounds into him, until they're both panting for air.

Yura's nails rake down his back and the open scratches sting even as Yura locks his ankles around Otabek's back and pulls his feet towards him. He's pressing the heels of his feet into Otabek's back hard enough to bruise.

"Beka!" he cries, thrashing beneath him, body sweating and radiating overwhelming heat, and Otabek keeps going—pressing his dick into that sweet spot inside Yura, making him moan and whip his head back and forth. "My cock, fuck you! Give it to me—" Again he pulls his hands back and makes fists, battering Otabek with them as he struggles against Otabek's weight pinning him down.

But Otabek has heard all of this before; he doesn't give in to Yura's demands to touch him. He just fucks into him, more unsteadily, more rapidly, but he could just…

Yura screams curses and his cock sends strings of come flying into the air. Some of it splatters Otabek's jumpsuit.

"Gotta keep going…" Otabek says in between short, quick breaths. But of course Yura knows that; the heroin in Otabek's system will keep him going for a long ass time. This is not Yura's first rodeo when it comes to fucking Otabek while he's tripping.

Everything feels delicious, and he slows down again, just riding the coattails of his pleasure, chasing it languidly, feeling everything rub against his cock and the shockwaves of pleasure are muted, blunted. Yura is boneless beneath him, eyes closed, blond hair sweaty and his face down to his collarbones and chest is all flushed and pink.

"Do it," Yura says in a thready whisper. "Make it _hurt_ , Beka."

He doesn't actually mean _hurt him_ , he means let it go on and on until neither of them can take a second more, and Yura's hole will be irritated and sore. Otabek loves that after they do this, the beautiful blush pink of his hole will have shifted to a glowing red, the rim stretched and obviously fucked out, lined with the white of Otabek's come.

Otabek loses track of time as he continues to bottom out inside Yura, then draw back. His body is almost on autopilot and as the high starts to dissipate, Otabek can feel everything getting sharper.

Yura's fingernails have left welts and claw marks across his back, his shoulders, his chest; right now Yura's clutching his biceps so hard it hurts, but Otabek doesn't mind. And then all of a sudden it sneaks up on him, the moment of truth, and he grapples with Yura's squirming hips until he can yank him upwards, filling him so so deep, and coming, so so hard.

He lets Yura's hips go, but he's quick, and catches Yuri before he can hit his head on the floor, lowering him gently.

Then he slides down that gorgeous body, roses and cream and like a brushstroke of perfection, until he's raising Yura's thighs, taking advantage of his figure skater's flexibility, and exposing his hole, which is struggling to close after the abuse it's taken.

Otabek ducks his head down and licks the irritated flesh, soothing it with his tongue. He can taste his own come as it drips from the gaping hole Yura's opening has become. It's so incredibly hot to the touch, making his mouth warm. He slips his tongue inside and twirls it around, catching globs of come and sucking them into his mouth.

Yura is moving again, frantically writhing, his cock hard against his belly. Otabek pockets the come in his cheek and slides upward, licking a path up to Yura's dick, where he takes it into his mouth and spreads his own come along Yura's length. Then he pulls off and begins to fist Yura, using the come as lubricant to ease some of the friction as he jerks him off.

He stuffs three fingers back into Yura's hole and finger fucks him in time with the turns of his wrist, and pretty soon Yura's screaming curses again, fighting Otabek like he's trying to stave off his orgasm instead of trying to achieve it.

"Let it come, kitten," Otabek murmurs against his lips, and when he kisses Yura, Yura bites his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood; Otabek can feel the thin skin split and swell and the come still mixed with his saliva makes it fucking sting like hell. Otabek grabs him by the hair at the back of his head, dragging his head up, and devours his mouth, letting the blood drip onto Yura's tongue.

"I hate you," gasps Yura, even as his body takes over completely, and he reaches orgasm for the second time. Their mouths almost slip off each other as they fuck each other's mouths messily, tongues rubbing against each other and Otabek's come and blood making everything even slicker and wetter.

"Lights out in fifteen," one of the guards calls, and starts banging his nightstick on the bars of the cells. The sheet hung to give them some theoretical privacy won't deter certain guards from knocking it down to be an asshole and expose them. Otabek pulls back and revels in the wreck he's made of Yura, his body covered in marks and semen and pink, luscious blushes.

He knows he, himself, must look a fright because fucking Yura is literally like trying to give a cat a bath. He loves it though.

They both do.

end.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me (helm-puppet-trash) on [Tumblr](http://helm-puppet-trash.tumblr.com)!


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